legionworld | I'm waking up to ash and dust

Entry tags:

✘ junkrat

I'm waking up to ash and dust

Who| You! And a fried demolitions expert only known as Junkrat.
What| Junkrat scopes out his new living situation upon Legion World.
Where| Various places around the ship.
When| A few days after Junkrat's arrival
Warnings/Notes| None - yet.

He really doesn't appreciate the fact the he's been brought here against his will, but since the guy that seems responsible is a tad indisposed to making his presence tangible, he'll have to sideline any plans on giving this time-keeper or whatever it is a piece of his mind. The more important part is that he's been offered a job, and Junkrat pretty much took it immediately without giving it much thought. No job too big, no score too small. He was daydreaming and tuned out the fine print and rules - there were always rules - and they always got broken, and it never really mattered because he always got the job done, whether or not that was under the purview of their restrictions or not.

Superpowers and malicious omnipotents and intergalactic peace. Cool. Whatever. When does he get to blow something up?

On second thought, how was he supposed to blow things up in the first place? He's arrived empty-handed except for his clothes and prosthetics, which--on one hand, he's thankful enough for what he still has--but on the other, it's going to be a pain in the ass if he lands himself in a bad situation.

Could be worse. Could always be worse. Besides, this place seems rather...peaceful? There's all sorts of shapes and sizes of people (?) around here, and Junkrat isn't sure if he fits in or stands out. Like any other job, he needs to (a) scope the place out, and (b) gather materials.

A typical day in the life of Junkrat, even if it involves being displaced some thousand years in the future on a space ship. He's always been adaptable.

----- A: ENGINEERING BAY -----

Of course, this is the first place he ends up. Eager mechanics and engineers are glad to share their knowledge with someone who seems expresses an energetic curiosity and interest, asking questions that only someone proficient in the craft would have the initiative to ask. It's all a front, of course - the questions are distractions so that he can pinch whatever material and tools are laying about, free for the taking. Junkrat's just arrived here and he's already breaking the rules, and he figures that he'll stop when his bag gets full...you know, eventually?

Plus, he's learning an awful lot about this machinery all at once. Very fascinating - from where he once stood, all of this was only in theory. Not necessarily something he'd make...but good to know. Just in case.

----- B: MESS HALL -----

When Junkrat heard that he'd have to have a uniform, he figured that it was going to be some lame, stuffy outfit that looked the same as everyone else's. The thought made him gag, and he'd honestly go naked before having to join swaths of monotonously-dressed coworkers.

After seeing the kind of outfits everyone on this ship wears, he's come to realize that he was mistaken. No, they're not all the same, but they're still lame and stuffy - and he's learned that you actually get a say in what it ends up looking like.

He may be stretching the interpretation of "say" in this case.

Instead of working with the clothiers develop something together, he's gathered up a sketchbook and some markers and landed in the mess hall to get to work. The noise and activity might be too much for most people, but the background of controlled chaos helps him think - plus, he gets free food here, which is probably the greatest thing he's found out since wandering this place. While he shovels food of an unknown origin into his mouth, he doodles various design ideas. He's quite good at drawing, even though his notes are written in legible but atrocious handwriting. Those poor Anthramites are going to have a run for their money on this one.

----- C: OBSERVATION DECK -----

There's not much for him here, and yet...

Junkrat leans against the railing, taking in the view in awed and uncharacteristic silence. He's been to so many places, seen so many different things, all on a single planet. And here it is - a whole other planet, ripe for exploration and hyjinx. And this is the only place you could ever get a view like this...well, while still being able to breathe, anyway.

With metal fingers stroking his jaw idly, this quiet moment is probably the first time that the reality of the situation is really starting to dawn on him.

...it's kind of scary, isn't it? Not only has he been thrust into this ship with a responsibility he knows he doesn't fully understand, on some magnitude he can't really conceive - but he's staring out at a planet at a distance that makes it feel like you could reach out and pick it up.

He feels so small.

Threaded | Flat

Funny how artists seem to just find each other.

Casey didn't exactly plan to end up at the mess hall, but he found he needed to eat a lot more than he usually did in order to keep up his insane athletic energy. Couldn't just get protein from an all-meat colon buster combo meal around here. Had to find something veggie-based, which mostly meant nuts.

He was going to work out some new explosives techniques, so he's in full uniform, skull mask included, when he happens to pass by one of the weirdest-looking characters he's seen to date, drawing some actually good stuff. The guy is decked out in prosthetics that look like they were made...well, the way Casey would make them. Out of junk, by himself.

"Huh. Not bad. You tag?"

She's promised not to kill anyone without them deserving it. She's also promised herself that she won't act without thinking— and there's something to be said for the fact that Jamison Fawkes isn't stealthy in this or any lifetime: the fact that he's here means he's either struck a deal with the Legion, or someone else busted themselves to get him in.

In this case, she isn't taking any chances.

So she's there at his back, just out of sight like she had been during the last mission, all vibrant blue to mask her former identity - gun raised and leveled at the back of his head.

"You're a long way away from home, vato."

Fareeha grabs a tray, loads it up with a responsible amount of food from a responsible collection of fruits, vegetables, proteins and carbs, treats herself with a responsibly sized dessert, and finishes the tray with a water and a sports drink. She then goes to find somewhere to sit.

She sees Junkrat and pauses. He's a new face, which is curious - but then he's familiar and she can't place why. She hadn't been around during the hostage situation he had apparently been blowing people up in here, but she feels like she's seen him in a broadcast somewhere, perhaps. She approaches the table and smiles,

"Is it alright if I join you?"

Best way to figure out if she knows him is to get to know him, really.

Reaper doesn't get himself involved in the day-to-day with most of the Legionnaires or its staff, only when he deems it necessary. The itch to pull both triggers of his guns is starting to become a nuisance, though he technically has no trouble with just having one. He'd be OK with just having one if it was by choice.

Yet he'd caught the scent of a rat on his way towards the engineering bay, considering getting a couple of replicas made to match his new outfit. It wasn't hard, because well, this is where one would gesture towards all of Junkrat. Quiet as the fog that rolls into the room, he makes his presence known to the engineers (they regard him with some caution, but are generally unafraid) before flattening himself into a ground-hugging trail of smoke. Right behind Junkrat.

Slowly, he builds himself back up into his solid shape. No gun out yet, he doesn't want to raise a fuss in a civilian facility, so he just prepares himself for a scuffle. He still recalls the fiasco not too long ago involving both the junkers. Can't blame him for being Extremely Suspicious.

"Looking for trouble, Fawkes?"

Barry, in his Flash suit withe mask pulled down, passes through the observation deck at a walk. Intending to head down to the Science Labs to do some more research on 31st century forensic techniques, he pauses and double-takes as he spots Junkrat.

"...didn't I arrest you?"

Took a swindler to recognize another one. Though Gaige was more in the business of sort of shooting people and then taking their stuff. Usually cash but gear and guns were fair game, too. Man, those really were the days. Anyways, she keeps on discreetly watching him until he's done.

Once that finally happens, she sort of walks over his side and asks.

"So... You find anything good lying about?" Gaige might definitely be trying to peek into that bag, by the way.

76 recognizes Junkrat when he sees him--he's an avid follower of the news, after all (you have to be, when you're an internationally-wanted vigilante), and he'd be surprised if Junkrat didn't recognize him in turn. They're both on wanted posters all over the world in varying amounts, and it doesn't bode well that the kid is here now.

Then again, he already knows the Legion will take just about anybody.

So if they're not going to vet their new recruits, then 76 most certainly will. He catches sight of Junkrat and outright stalks him to the engineering bay. A man of 76's size isn't exactly the best at stealth, so he makes himself known sooner rather than later.

"Are you sure you should be messing with that?"

The background buzz died down somewhat as Kubo made his way to the usual wall where he told his midday stories, since by now anyone who ate at this time knew what to expect from the boy in the red haori jacket over his black skintight legion uniform.

The roll of butcher paper was new to everyone, though.

Kubo had a little surprise for everyone today. A new device was clipped to the body of his shamisen, an amplifier that made his sound so much bigger than it had ever been. When he strummed his first chord to announce the day's story, the electrified shamisen cut through the remainder of the background chatter. Peoples' napkins always tended to be unusually active during Kubo's performances, but this chord made every piece of paper in the room jump as if in excitement.

That included any paper anyone might be drawing on.

"If you must blink -" Kubo had to raise his voice more than usual to be heard over the sound of his amplified instrument. "- Do it now!"

Kubo jumped into the song for the day's tale, and every napkin in the room flew off the tables. The butcher paper behind him snapped from its roll and folded upon itself in a huge square.

"Hanzo, the mightiest samurai, was lost at sea," Kubo began, the enormous square of butcher paper rippling behind him, creating a sound effect like thunder as smaller pieces of blue paper swarmed from his pack, mimicking the look of a raging ocean.

Even with no particular direction from the storyteller, the remainder of the paper in the room vibrated and swirled as if trying to dance to the song he played.

Threaded | Flat

B

observation deck;

B

A

C

A

engineering bay

B